If A Piece Of Knotted String Can

I Find It Satisfying And Intellectually Stimulating To Work With The Intensity, Brevity, Balance And Word Play Of The Short Story.

But The Only Rhyme He Could Summon For 'out' Was 'sauerkraut,' Which Lacked Poetic Glory. He Let It Go. The Right Line Would Come In Time. That Was The Thing About Poetry. It Crept Up Through The Draws And Coulees Of The Brain.

If A Piece Of Knotted String Can Unleash The Wind, And If A Drowned Man Can Awaken, Then I Believe A Broken Man Can Heal.

There Was Some Open Space Between What He Knew And What He Tried To Believe, But Nothing Could Be Done About It, And If You Can't Fix It You've Got To Stand It.

A Spinning Coin, Still Balanced On Its Rim, May Fall In Either Direction.